The Kirkwall Adjustment
by leslie.borle
Summary: Sebastian Amadeus Vael is a young Prince stripped of his title, authority, and even his bath towels. A fic following Sebastian from impetuous, entitled brat to kind and patient Chantry Brother
1. The Exile

Kirkwall. The city's skyline loomed overhead, the famous chains casting an oppressive aura to those entering the gates.

Why did he have to be here again? Oh, that's right. No one needs a third heir for a throne, so his parents had sent him away to the Chantry. He was the trouble child. He scowled as the salty air pushed his long hair into his eyes. He already missed Starkhaven. He especially missed the women. He grinned a little at the memory of one particular redhead.

He scanned the people on the ship around him, not that he could really see around the "camouflaged" guards encircling him. There was a family of elves not far from where he was, the little girl standing out front holding on to a blanket with rough embroidery spelling out something in Elvish. He squinted to try to read what it said, but the wind kept moving the blanket, and when the girl noticed him staring, she bunched up the blanket and turned into what he assumed was her father. At least she had a father who cared.

He looked up at the chains again. Fun place. He rolled his eyes at the thought of his exile.

As the ship pulled into the port and stopped, his guards began to gather his things, rather conspicuously. More oppressive symbols lined the port. Tied up slaves in statue form were everywhere. Yup. Fun place, indeed.

Before he realized they were moving, he found himself being dragged up the steps toward the Chantry. An elderly woman stood in front of the door.

"I am Grand Cleric Elthina. Am I to assume that the young man crammed into the middle of this group is our young Prince? Sebastian?" she asked with a kind, sympathetic smile on her face, one that spread to her soft grey eyes.

He couldn't help but smile a little. She reminded him of his grandmother, kind and gentle, with the smallest spark of sass. He stepped forward and gave a small bow.

"Aye, Grand Cleric. I am Sebastian Amadeus Vael, third contender for the throne of Starkhaven, and now exiled Prince," he said a little bitterly.

"A bitter heart will never allow healing to begin, young man," she said with caution in her voice, but a smirk betraying her true intent behind those words.

Suddenly, Kirkwall seemed a bit more lively. But only a bit.

"Come. I'll show you to your quarters," Elthina said. Sebastian's guard made a move to follow Elthina and Sebastian inside. "Alone. Leave his things under the stairwell in the room on the left."

They bowed. Whether it was out of respect, or out of duty to the crown, Sebastian couldn't tell. Either way, he knew that he liked the way Elthina handled situations. He would have to watch her and learn from that.

She showed him to a minimally appointed room and waved him inside.

"This will be your room for as long as you'll have it. Your family may have sent you to us, but I will not hold you here once you are an adult."

He stepped inside and looked around. It was a sizeable room for only one inhabitant, with a large four-poster bed, large enough for three people to lie side by side. The vanity rested to the left of the bed, a simple stained oak armoire set next to it.

"You'll find that you already have service robes in the armoire, tailored to you. Your parents sent word ahead with your measurements."

Measurements? That's right. His grandfather had him fitted for armor before he left.

"Are you sure it wasn't my grandfather who sent word ahead?" he asked bitterly.

"It wouldn't have been your grandfather, Sebastian. I know him personally, and all he ever wanted for you is for you to lead the archers of Starkhaven. So, yes, I'm certain."

He opened his mouth to give a spiteful response, but then immediately closed it, thinking better of it. He went back to inspecting the room. On the right side of the bed was a rug upon which lay a large, oval metal bowl filled with three thick red candles and a copy of the Chant of Light. Behind it was a statuette of Andraste and above that hung the only wall art in the room, a very large Chantry sunburst.

He scoffed at the lack of . . . well, anything that he was used to. Where was the separate restroom, the luxurious bath? There wasn't even a chair to put anything on, just a bed and a vanity. Where would he write letters? Ugh.

"Dinner is in an hour, young man. Clean up and say your prayers. If you find you have more time, you may begin to bring your things into your room," Elthina said. "But, I fear I must inform you, no symbols of extravagance may be kept."

Sebastian thought of the crown he had packed and cringed. He'd have to get rid of that if he wanted free lodgings. And free food.

"And what of mementos of my family?" he challenged her.

"No symbols of extravagance. Pictures and amulets, depending on the quality may be kept. Letters. Perhaps that dagger I see you've hidden in your boot?" she smirked at him.

He was shocked. He had hidden a dagger in his right boot's sole, laying flat against his foot, but even his guards hadn't noticed. He became instantly suspicious of her knowledge of such things.

"Ah, I ran with a crowd of ruffians in my younger days, lad," she chuckled. "I'm certain that I know all your tricks and more. Ah, and your next door neighbor has been instructed to guide you to your meals for the next week, or until you remember the layout of this Chantry by heart."

With that she turned and left, leaving a dumbfounded Sebastian in her wake.


	2. Temperance

A sharp knocking on his door roused him from his somewhat fitful slumber. One week had passed, and Sebastian was already sick of this simple lifestyle. What did they do for fun? Did they know what fun was? That was perhaps a better question. Every time anyone had free time, he could find them in their quarters, memorizing the Chant. And the quiet! How could they stand it being so quiet all the time? It was driving him insane! No one ever seemed to come to the Chantry either, so he felt isolated. Oh, and don't forget about bored. Very, very bored. He sighed and rolled out of his bed to avoid making the bed later.

"Good morning, Maker," he grumbled as he passed the statuette of Andraste. "Good morning, Andraste."

He walked over and put on the robes that were given him, palming some sugar that he hid in the armoire in the process. He hated the colors of the robes. They were far too dark for his liking. He liked the lighter ones that he had seen Ferelden Sisters wearing on a few of his trips there with his family.

He made his way down to the dining room and took a seat across from one of the younger sisters. Looking at her, you wouldn't know that she was one of the more stringent women in the Chantry. She'd hit him on the head with a really heavy book the day before when he was daydreaming on his cleaning duty shift. _This ain't Starkhaven, boy._ He swore even his hair had bruised. Right now she was staring at him, as if she were trying to assess whether she needed to hit him again. He resolved to get his chores done as quickly as he could so he could get out of the Chantry and explore the city.

Breakfast was served and he could barely contain the disgusted look he so wanted to give to the porridge sitting in front of him. The Chantry believed that leading a simple life would bring you closer to the Maker. That, unfortunately, apparently included spices of any sort. The food here was so bland. He sprinkled in the sugar he had brought down with him. The sister he had decided to sit across from gave him a pointed glare and he just smiled in return. At least sugar made this slop palatable. He missed the fresh fruits he had back home.

As soon as breakfast was declared over, Sebastian shot up to look at the chores list for the day. He had a puzzled look on his face when Grand Cleric Elthina came over and placed a hand on his shoulder.

"Confused, lad?" she asked.

He looked up into her kind eyes.

"I've no chores today, Grand Cleric?" he asked.

"No, Sebastian. Today, you and I are taking a walk through the city. I need to do some shopping and I would like some help carrying the materials back to the Chantry," she explained. "That is what is required of you today."

Sebastian was still confused, and he opened his mouth to ask a question that disappeared as soon as the first word began to form on his lips.

"It should take less than two hours. Then you have the rest of the day to yourself. Please. Explore your new home."

Well, that's one way of getting out of the Chantry. He nodded. He was a helper when he was younger with some of the kitchen staff at his family's estate. This couldn't be any harder than that, surely.

An hour later, Sebastian found himself covered in dirt and pollen, listening to Grand Cleric Elthina tell tales of her _wild youth,_ as she insisted on putting it. Some of it made him chuckle as he tried to imagine this sweet but sassy lass quite literally pulling the rug from under the viscount, or her burning the drapes as a lay sister, just to have _something_ happen at the Chantry. He was carrying tubers, roots, and marigolds in the folds of his robes as they walked. He was going to be scrubbing out the stains for hours after this. Joy of joys, that. At least this was a respite from the agonizing silence of the Chantry.

He hadn't seen the city in a long time. It had been, what, nine years since he had properly seen the City of Chains? The walls seemed to be a more muted color of sandstone than he remembered it being. Still, it was a city he knew the general layout of, and he sighed and followed Elthina as she rounded the corner, her amusing stories coming to an end. _For now,_ she had promised.

"Now, you're going to like this," she said as she turned around with a suspiciously large grin and a heavy bag. "Hold out your hand, Sebastian."

He bunched his robes into one hand and held out his hand as she asked. The loud clink of coin sounded as the bag hit his hand. He weighed it in his hand. There had to be at least 70 sovereigns in there! That had to be a year of saving for the Grand Cleric. He was appalled at the idea of taking that much money from her.

"Grand Cleric?"

"Go and pick one that you like, and get the matching set," she said, pointing into the storefront she had stopped in front of. "Your grandfather sent this coin for you, before you fret."

"My grandfather?" he asked. "Why?"

"He thought you would miss your routine," she said, that abnormally large smile still very much present. "Maker, just go in, boy!"

Sebastian cocked his head in confusion but entered the store. Bows, quivers full of arrows, and targets lined one of the walls. He was utterly elated. Elthina watched, fully entertained, as his eyes lit up as if he were a small child given free reign of a candy shop. If he were being honest with himself, he barely noticed the swords, daggers, and dummies throughout the rest of the store. Stained wood, white trim, and a golden grip caught his eye as he walked towards the archery section. He picked up the bow, weighed it in his hands, and drew the string to his ear. He smiled. Perfection personified, as if the Maker Himself had laid that bow there, just for him. He then moved to the quivers and picked one that matched the bow. He brought both to the counter and waved the store owner over.

"I'll have these, please."

The owner looked over at the Grand Cleric in the doorway. She nodded and he took Sebastian's new-found gold, counting out 65 gold pieces. That left Sebastian with 5 more gold pieces. Without a word, the store owner brought out a belt with several different pockets of varying sizes from under the counter and fistfuls of arrows from a nearby barrel.

"Your grandfather sent word ahead, my Prince," he said with a bow. "This and a target are to be free."

A Starkhavener? He thanked the Maker he wasn't the only one in this city.

"Thank you," he said as he bowed back, uncertain of his duty as a Prince given to the Chantry.

He walked out of that storefront as the happiest version of himself he had ever known, nearly skipping all the way back to the Chantry. Elthina merely shook her head in amusement at his pure joy and followed behind him.


End file.
